NICU Graduate

Just not the way that we hoped!

Much like George and Weezy, we have moved on up to a de-luxe apartment in the sky.  And by that I mean that we moved up two floors in the same hospital.  From NICU to PICU.*

Around the end of February, we started thinking about moving to PICU.  Because at 14 months old, Ainsley was obviously not a newborn anymore.   She is a toddler - a toddler who doesn't toddle, but still.  Does this giant meatloaf look like a newborn to you?

Gettin a toof.

So the thought was that, maybe, she should be in the PICU where 14 month old residents are the norm, and not the depressing exception.  Where there are lots of bigger kids on ventilators.  And so we asked to be moved and apparently that is a big deal like, whoa.   Apparently?  There is no way to say to this group of people who have kept your super sick kid alive for the past 14 months that you want to take your critical illness elsewhere, without feeling like somewhat of an ungrateful douche.

This giant meatloaf rolls over now.

The scariest part of the move was getting to know all new nurses and staff.  For us and for Ainsley.  Ainsley can be a bit of a snob if she doesn't know you.  Everyone in the NICU knew that you had to make friends with Ainsley before you approached her.  And almost everyone in the NICU made friends with Ainsley because she is a giant attention whore and would perform for anyone willing to watch.

Ainsley's de-luxe apartment in the sky.

Surprisingly, the move went really well.  Ainsley didn't mind the change in scenery at all, and has made fast friends with lots of PICU people.  Her room is right across from a break room where people come and go all day, and she spends the entire day shaking her head no, dancing, and smiling at people to get attention.  She's got some new, fabulous primary nurses, and her NICU friends come to visit her all the time.

Big Room = Big Sister Dance Party

It has been interesting to watch the new doctors get to know Ainsley.  The first few days were a bit rough but overall necessary.  A few aggressive changes were made, and in typical Ainsley fashion, the bottom fell out after a few days.  Ainsley will try her best - she will chug along for days doing something that she doesn't like, and then all of a sudden she will stop doing it. 

For example: breathing.

Within the first week, the PICU people were introduced to my ugly cry and Ainsley's drama.  I was joking that it would be so satisfying for a NICU doctor to stand off in a corner and say, "SEE?!  See what we were dealing with?  HA!"  This child does not tolerate fast change.  Lesson learned.

HEYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

But Ainsley won back her (super, ridiculously, insane) high ventilator settings and was her cheerful self in a few days.  And by cheerful, I mean ZOMG HAPPY!  She is such a happy and silly toddler, who doesn't toddle.  She's 15.5 months old and aside from not being able to breathe on her own, like, at all?  She is fantastic.

The cuteness.

We are hopeful that someday we will get her home.  But today is not that day.  Not tomorrow, either, or the next day.  But hey!  We have a super fun baybee so things could be a lot worse.

*I may have been in a hospital for too long, but I was surprised by the number of people who asked me what the difference between NICU and PICU is.  NICU is Neonatal Intensive Care Unit - for wittle newborn baybees.  PICU is Pediatric Intensive Care Unit - for kids of all ages, big giant teenagers included.